Mission Complete
An unstoppable storm surged forward, poised to devour everything in its path. The phenomenon was so incomprehensible that even demons who had lived a thousand years fell utterly silent. Lumia, who for a moment imagined the world crumbling around her, gazed up at Sisilia through her blurred vision.
'A human too powerful, left with no choice but to seal her strength.'
If not for Sisilia's sudden emergence one day, no one inside the Demon King Castle could have foreseen it. That a single human wielded the colossal power to upend everything. She possessed far too much strength for one person to contain.
"……Incredible."
It was something she'd half-doubted until now. But at this moment, Lumia had no choice but to admit it. The Heaven-Breaking Powerless Sword carried destructive force on that scale. As a fellow living being before even considering her an enemy, Lumia couldn't help but offer reverence.
"So humans... can grow this strong. Cough."
Lumia could scarcely recall when she'd last felt this frail. She looked ahead. Sisilia, regal as ever, sheathed her sword and approached slowly. She lifted what remained of Lumia—barely half a body now—and met her gaze. Those icy pupils held not a shred of pity.
"But with this... you've sealed your power. By the time you reclaim it, the world will belong to the demons."
—If the plan succeeds, everything will be such a tangled mess she'll have no idea where to even begin fixing it. Because Sisilia's entire scheme hinges on her own power.
Lumia's body was halved. Eighty percent of her heart was gone, and her magic power scattered into the air even now. That spelled death. An absolute, irreversible end. Lumia pronounced a death sentence on her own husk of a form, capable only of barely opening its eyes.
But it was amusing. At this juncture, this pivotal moment, Sisilia Windsor had crossed a river she could never return from. For this plan culminated in Lumia's death.
Lumia accepted it. If her demise could grant victory to the demon race, it was the ultimate outcome. With this, Sisilia would be sealed. So Lumia mocked her with every ounce of strength left.
"Rampage to your heart's content in a world overrun by demons."
Sword Princess Sisilia. Her hidden power: Sword God. The human closest to divinity. Yet in this sealed instant, Sisilia Windsor's strength plummeted to Sword Emperor level. The paradigm-shattering extreme art of Heaven-Breaking Powerless Sword had slain Lumia, strongest of the Four Heavenly Kings. But its nature—consuming every last drop of magic—made it mutual destruction.
Naturally. The demons wouldn't squander this opening. Monster or not, surpassing all reason, she couldn't fend off the full Demon King Army without even a speck of magic remaining.
"Of course, that's assuming you're still breathing by then."
Sisilia rolled her frigid silver-blue eyes. A clamor erupted. Shouts, cheers, raucous cries from inhuman throats.
"Looks like you have friends."
"Forgot? This is the Demon King Castle."
Odds of a magic-less human surviving solo here? Sorry, but zero from the start.
'At least I can witness the final moments of the human who killed me.'
Lumia smirked. Not a bad end. Sisilia drew her blade once more. Lumia, well aware any resistance was futile thrashing, spat blood and giggled. But Sisilia's next move left her speechless.
"Are you... out of your mind?"
"I'm always in my right mind."
Sisilia sliced her own wrist and fed the blood to Lumia. Like pouring water into a sieve. Utterly pointless—
"D-Don't tell me... you think I'll help you if I pull through?"
Made Lumia wonder if her head was addled. Yet Sisilia kept pouring blood. Lumia recovered somewhat, but the damage ran too deep. Not enough to halt death. But enough to stave it off for now.
"Why... why?"
Sisilia rose. She aimed at the onrushing Demon King Army and yawned listlessly.
"Stay put. If you're dying, speak up. I'll share more blood."
Unlike the baffled Lumia, Sisilia meant every word, as always. No magic? True. But that didn't equate to defenseless. Rank 1 Sisilia. Her true worth—
Lay in 'control'.
A chaotic city. Flickering torches, worry and fervor, swirling anxieties and torments. Staggering through it all was a lone girl. Guards pushed through the murmuring onlookers eyeing her. One froze at the sight.
"Y-You alright?"
The girl looked up impassively and gave a faint nod. The instant the tense guard touched her shoulder—
"!"
Her gaze was lethally cold. Utterly emotionless calm.
"You..."
The guard blanched, withdrawing his hand inch by inch. The girl fixed him with a piercing stare, then cocked her head ever so slightly.
'Wasn't he hitting on me?'
Weird guy, she thought, resuming her steps. The castle crisis seemed somewhat contained; crowds swelled. Yet they parted before her like the Red Sea. No wonder.
Drag, drag, drag.
An unrecognizable demon, face obliterated, trailed by the hair in Sisilia's grip.
Sisilia entered a deserted alley, slumped against the wall, and slid down. Truth be told, she lacked even the strength to stand. Seated, she closed her eyes quietly. Tuned into voices on the faint breeze.
"We gotta rescue her now."
"Caution first. We're hardly fit to fret over the Sword Princess."
"We have to go."
'Cute.'
She pinpointed the voice she sought without delay. Getting here had been grueling. Legs numb, her prized pale, supple skin scarred and scraped. Fortunate she'd mapped the weakest path. Midway on, flow unreadable, she'd flipped coins for directions—and Lady Luck smiled.
Anyway. Amid the ordeal, Sisilia beamed. She peeked out.
"Don't you get it? We'll just hinder her! Even the Windsor Knights can barely handle that army—how?!"
"You won't know till you try!"
"Some things you know without trying!"
Ariana and Ruby, at each other's throats. Tempting to picnic and savor the steamy spat, but alas—time to tie things up. Gasping, Sisilia seized the ragdoll remnants of Lumia by the hair.
"So ugly. Nothing like me."
"...H-Hic!"
Lumia, utterly terror-stricken, wore a devil-sighting grimace. Sisilia hurled her from the alley with all her might.
"That's full-blown insanity! You're a nutcase!"
"Your words are too much!"
Roll, roll. Thud.
Lumia's diminutive form tumbled across the dirt, slamming the far wall. The hero party whipped toward it in unison.
"Huh? That's..."
"...A demon?"
Sisilia expended her last reserves, slumping fully down the wall. Rustles followed. Then Jay's dumbfounded voice.
"Dunno what it is, but demon? Kill it."
Presence Eradicated
With the gruesome sound, Sisilia shut her eyes. Lumia's constant presence winked out entirely.
"F-Fuck, what the hell is this."
"What's wrong...?"
"Can't see shit! Screens everywhere!"
'Hidden quest cleared, huh. Barely nailed the initial goal.'
They say the journey matters more than the prize. Sisilia disagreed. Pfft, results first. Great process yielding nothing? Pity. But snagging the result sans process? Peak bliss.
So she handed the hero party pure results. A hero unable to snag a Four Heavenly King couldn't slay the Demon King. But now, with one down, Jay surely could. Sisilia hoped.
'What's left...'
She eyed her hands. Plan flawless—power perfectly sealed, she felt it. Like this? Minimum three years sans Sword God strength. Frustrating, unable to wield what she had. Raw power supremacy suited her; true limits? No thanks.
Too stifling.
"Time to skip."
Thus, swift unsealing.
"Freya."
"Yeah."
Freya materialized before her, as if always there. Sisilia rubbed weary eyes and spoke casually.
"Send me three years ahead."
"......So much to unpack."
Freya shot her a look screaming volumes unspoken. Sisilia blinked innocently; Freya sighed faintly, hand to the void.
"......On second thought, my contractor wouldn't sweat the small stuff."
"Yup."
"Just know it's extremely tough."
Sisilia flashed a silent V-sign. Freya forehead-palmed, shoulders slumping.
"No clue what that means."
She lifted her head, tone curt.
"O Demon God, I, the time demon Freya, offer three thousand years of my lifespan."
⟨ Transfer Sisilia Windsor's memories to three years in the future ⟩
Sisilia's eyes sparkled. Freya traced a line toward her, glimpsing something beyond even Sisilia's sight.
A shrill beep resonated; the world whirled. In her dimming mind, one thought alone:
'...Freya, your cost-performance is trash.'